


Stand Down

by kenjideath



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Teikou Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the kink meme. Of course, everyone in the Generation of Miracles belongs to Akashi, but not like how Shintarou belongs to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand Down

It was quite a satisfactory practice. Daiki and Ryouta were running drills. Tetsuya had only tried to sleep three times. Atsushi had been persuaded to put down his snacks long enough to practice catching Tetsuya’s Ignite Pass. 

And Shintarou was at the half court line, had been at the half court line for all three hours of practice, and his arms kept moving in the steady rhythm so ingrained in his body that Akashi could see echoes of it even when they weren’t training. 

Akashi took a moment to drag his eyes over Shintarou. He was sweaty and gasping and one could perhaps have said that he was shivering a little, but they were pushing their bodies to the limit here. Akashi watched him sink a three pointer, then another, and then called out to him in the split second before Shintarou could hesitate, paralyzed with the realization that he wasn't sure the next shot would go in.

“Shintarou,” Akashi said. Shintarou’s eyes snapped to him. So did everyone else’s. Akashi allowed them a half-second of approval in his own mind. They had come so far, since he started molding them. “Come to the office with me,” Akashi said. “We need to discuss next week’s training schedule.”

“Ah,” Shintarou said, shifting the ball to one hand so he could use the other to push his glasses up his nose. “Go ahead. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Akashi carefully didn’t let himself smile. Shintarou was so cute when he was trying not to act desperate. It was so futile; Shintarou knew that Akashi could see his pulse hammering under his skin, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, his muscles tensing and relaxing almost constantly. “Take your time,” Akashi said, and Shintarou bit his lip. 

It looked like a good idea. Akashi factored it into his itinerary for the day.

Akashi walked into the office and pulled one of the hard-back wooden chairs next to the door. He moved the coach’s chair – a plush, wheeled affair that it was nearly impossible to fuck in, a fact that pained him greatly – from behind the desk to the middle of the room, facing the door. Akashi arranged himself in the chair, crossed his legs, folded his hands over his knees, calculated Shintarou’s arrival. First he would need to put the ball he was holding back in the cart, even though the floor was littered with balls from his shooting practice. Then he would need to look for his lucky item, pry the stuffed bunny out of Atsushi’s curious hands, walk to the door with a relaxed enough pace to avoid raising suspicion (another adorable habit of Shintarou’s; like there was anything about the Teikou regulars that the rest of them didn’t know). All things considered, he should knock on the door about – 

“Enter,” Akashi said. It took a moment too long for Shintarou to open the door, a moment he doubtlessly spent reprimanding himself for even considering knocking. Akashi wished that Shintarou didn’t try so hard not to tell him things he already knew. Life would be very dull, after all, if no one ever told him anything.

Shintarou entered the room, closed and locked the door behind him. When he turned to face Akashi, he crossed his wrists behind his back and lowered his eyes. Akashi had been half-hard since the first time Shintarou’s attention had strayed from his shooting to him during that afternoon’s practice. This finished the job. “You know your place,” Akashi said, voice steady. “Get into it.”

“Yes –“ Shintarou cleared his throat – “Yes, sir.” He carefully placed his stuffed rabbit on the chair, taking extra care not to wrinkle its sundress. Then he pulled off his clothes – first toeing off his shoes, tucking his socks inside, stashing them both under the chair. Then his shirt pulled over his head, mindful of his glasses, neatly folded next to the springtime rabbit. By the time Shintarou’s shorts, folded into quarters, joined the pile, Akashi’s cock was leaking in his boxers. This was the great ease, and the greatest challenge, in dominating Shintarou: he was already so thoroughly dominated by himself.

Of course, Akashi never allowed his team to follow other masters. He was their captain, after all.

“Hang your boxers on the back of the chair,” Akashi said while Shintarou was still sliding them off. Shintarou hadn’t even started to worry about getting precum on his other clothes yet, but he would have as soon as he saw the mess he had made in his underwear.

And it was quite a mess. His cock, pressed flat by the band of his boxers, had managed to leak all over his stomach, and even drip down to his thighs. As Akashi watched Shintarou’s cock bob free, it twitched and spit out another gleaming drop. Shintarou trembled and clamped down again on the vibrator buried inside of him. Akashi considered messing with the remote in his pocket, but there was too great a chance of Shintarou’s legs giving out. There would be plenty of time for that when Shintarou was in position.

Akashi said, “I’m waiting, Shintarou,” when he took an extra second to collect himself before stepping out of his boxers. It was the kind of foolish error Shintarou often made; if Akashi wanted him to be in control, he would hardly be going through all this trouble, would he?

Shintarou rasped out, “I’m sorry, sir,” and put his boxers away as he had been instructed. He was quite wobbly on his feet now, and he couldn’t seem to stop clamping down on his toy. It was with great relief that he sunk to his knees, legs spread and eyes lowered with his arms crossed behind him. Akashi tried to stay as detached as possible in these scenes, but this part always got to him. Shintarou looked so good like this, vulnerable and strong, open and wanting, settling so comfortably into his place. 

Akashi wanted his mouth, but Shintarou hadn’t earned that yet. So Akashi occupied himself with something almost as fun. 

Correcting Shintarou’s mistakes. 

He always made the same ones, but Akashi could never bring himself to truly punish him for them. They were just so Shintarou, after all. Akashi leaned forward in the chair, careful to not let his head drop below Shintarou’s. Then he took hold of Shintarou’s glasses with both hands and slid them off. 

Shintarou’s breath hitched and then sped up. He closed his eyes in the few seconds it took for Akashi to bring his glasses to the pile of clothes and lay them in the center, and was trying desperately to avoid biting his lip. Akashi wished he wouldn’t bother. His lips looked so nice all red and swollen, and if Akashi was going to let him earn kisses they would be here all day.

“Give me your hands,” Akashi said, when he was sitting down again. Shintarou offered them, raised above his bowed head. They were shaking badly, so Akashi pressed them together first, held them tightly between his own. “You’re mine, Shintarou,” he said. “My plans are always perfect. And I don’t plan for you to get hurt.”

Shintarou nodded jerkily. His eyes were still screwed shut and he had given in and was gnawing at his bottom lip. Akashi reached for Shintarou’s right thumb and started to unbind his wrappings. 

By the time his index finger was clear, Shintarou was whining, a high noise in the back of his throat. When Akashi pressed a kiss to his palm and started on his left hand, a few tears had leaked out of Shintarou’s eyes. As soon as the last of the bindings were undone, rolled up and laid on the desk behind him, Akashi buried both his hands in Shintarou’s hair. “My precious boy,” Akashi said. “You’re all bare for me now. All mine.”

Shintarou nodded, tried to press his face into Akashi’s palm.

“Such a good boy,” Akashi said. “My favorite. As a reward, I’ll let you do the last part yourself.”

Shintarou moaned. “Thank you,” he said, panting. “Can I – please, can I do it now?” His eyes had slid open and he was squirming. Akashi took in his desperate motions, his dripping cock, the sheen of sweat all over his body, and knew that either Shintarou was going to do it now or Akashi was going to have to give him permission to come. He was, at least, thoroughly distracted from the way this removal of this hand wrappings differed from his usual ritual. Akashi felt deeply that this should be a part of his usual ritual, but he was aware that there were some things that could not be rushed, not even by perfection.

“Of course you can,” Akashi said. He let go of Shintarou’s head and leaned back for a better view. He wasn’t disappointed. Shintarou’s plunged his fingers inside of himself at once, starting with two only because Akashi had punished him the last time he’d tried to open himself on three. Shintarou’s head fell back, and Akashi watched the moans he couldn’t contain spill out and his ass spasm around his fingers, trying to push them out and swallow them whole at once.

Shintarou shifted his fingers and then froze, holding perfectly still for several heartbeats as he hovered on the edge of orgasm, waiting for the pleasure to ebb. Akashi watched him cling desperately to the edge he wanted so badly to fall over, and reached down to slowly, cruelly, pump his own cock. 

It was a bit of a pointless thing to do, since Shintarou could barely see with his glasses off, even with his pupils as completely blown as they were right now. But Akashi was sure that Shintarou could see enough, a theory that was confirmed when his mouth slid oh-so-slightly open and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.

“I’m waiting, Shintarou,” Akashi said. It was fortunate that Shintarou was so thoroughly distracted, because Akashi could no longer keep his voice completely steady. Shintarou thrust three fingers inside of himself – arched into them, gasped, eyes popped wide – and pulled out the vibrator, still shaking wildly in his hands.

“Good boy,” Akashi said. He teased his foreskin carefully with his thumb, reached for the remote in his pocket with his free hand. “Put it on the floor in front of you. It was going to have to be cleaned anyway,” he added, to ease Shintarou’s mind, “before we could use it again.”

Shintarou set the vibrator down right in front of Akashi’s chair, and Akashi hit the off switch in his pocket as soon has Shintarou’s fingers left it. Shintarou was still leaning back, legs spread, and Akashi watched Shintarou’s ass flutter as he clamped down on nothing for the first time in hours. 

“You’ve been very obedient today,” Akashi said. He let go of his dick and ignored its twitch of disappointment, too subtle for near-sighted Shintarou to catch. “I’ll give you a reward.” Akashi considered gifting Shintarou with a smile, but decided one big enough for him to see would be ridiculous. “Get back into position,” Akashi said, “and you can beg for anything you want.”

Shintarou was back on his knees in an instant, hands put away, staring frantically into the floor. “Captain,” he said, his voice barely trembling, “please may I suck your cock. Please – ” his voice cracked “ – Please, let me taste you – “

Akashi pretended to ponder his request, as if there had been any possibility of Shintarou asking for anything else. “Hmm,” he said at length, “That’s quite a reward. Do you think you deserve a reward like that?”

“I deserve whatever Akashi wants to give me,” Shintarou said immediately, unthinkingly. Akashi’s cock twitched in his hand. 

“Shintarou is intelligent, isn’t he?” Akashi said. He spread his legs and pulled down his boxers farther, to give Shintarou easier access. His dick swayed a little, unsupported by his hand. “You may take your reward.”

Shintarou lunged forward, only remembering to let of a breathy “Thank you” when his mouth was bare millimeters from Akashi’s cock. Then all at once he was sucking the head into his mouth and gripping the base with just the right amount of gentle pressure, and Akashi had to dig his fingernails into the chair to prevent himself from letting Shintarou know how very good he was.

Shintarou’s mouth was so, so sweet, almost as sweet as the expression he got when he was nice and full. His eyelids drooped and he looked so relaxed, almost meditative, as he fell into his gentle rhythm of bobbing on the last few inches of Akashi’s dick. 

Akashi rested a proprietary hand on Shintarou’s nape and rubbed his thumb gently through the fine hair there. Shintarou relaxed even further, taking more and more into his mouth, until Akashi gave him a firm squeeze. Then Shintarou went limp in his hand, a complete surrender of control that was almost better than Shintarou’s talented mouth. 

But maybe not better than what came next, when Akashi could put Shintarou’s head exactly where he wanted it, and carefully, carefully slide his dick down Shintarou’s throat.

Akashi’s penis was not particularly large, a fact that he felt should not reflect badly on Shintarou’s undeniable skill in this area. Shintarou knew exactly when to swallow, exactly how to breathe, how to cover his teeth – how to let his throat grip the head of Akashi’s cock so perfectly – 

For a moment, Shintarou’s mouth was so good Akashi’s eyes crossed, which was a shame because Shintarou’s face was just as lovely. He was completely gone; his pupils had overwhelmed his iris and a thin line of drool was dripping out of his mouth, along with frankly delicious little moans and whines. Akashi wanted to keep him like this forever, he wanted to keep Shintarou at his feet until he gave Akashi all the trust he squandered on Oha Asa. I am luck, he wanted to say, I can keep you safe, all you need to do is exactly what I say – 

Akashi’s orgasm hit him hard – too hard for him to do something horrible like gasp or say Shintarou’s name, which was a blessing, although he did end up slumped over Shintarou’s head, still filling his mouth with cock and stroking the back of his head and now panting in his ear.

Akashi tried to pull himself together without looking like he needed to pull himself together, and tugged Shintarou off his dick. Shintarou fell back on his heels. Akashi was proud to note that there was barely any come on his face, and somewhat regretful that he’d been too busy coming to watch him swallow it. Shintarou waited, cock harder and eyes more glazed them ever, fingers twitching, letting out a nearly continuous sound of pure, desperate need.

Shintarou had earned it five times over, but Akashi made him wait a little longer. He leaned back in his chair and watched Shintarou want so badly what only Akashi could give him, not even begging because he didn’t have permission. Akashi felt his body flood with affection as well as endorphins; his Shintarou was so good, sometimes Akashi wished they could have more than three years together.

Shintarou’s left hand twitched, barely, toward his cock, and Akashi took pity on him. “You may touch yourself until you come,” he said. Precious Shintarou even waited for him to finish speaking before eagerly wrapping a hand around his dick, but his other hand got as far as his balls before he remembered to look for Akashi for permission. “You cock and your ass,” Akashi clarified magnanimously, and this time Shintarou didn’t wait before filling himself with three fingers. 

Shintarou fucked up into his hand almost as desperately as he fucked himself with his own fingers. He was too far gone to establish anything like a reasonable rhythm, but his hips pumped furiously, just trying to get whatever he could as hard as he could make it. It was a glorious sight, and Akashi would have liked to enjoy it longer, but Shintarou had been pushed quite extensively today and had earned a minute or two to think of nothing but his own boiling wants. 

Rhetorically speaking, of course. It wasn’t even two minutes before Shintarou reached his limit, snapping his head back and squeezing his cock just a hair too tightly as he finished all over himself. Once he stopped screaming and his hips stopped snapping, he collapsed on the floor. It was a hideous breach of protocol, but the image was gorgeous enough that Akashi could forgive it. Shintarou looked so good messy that Akashi was briefly regretful that he hadn’t added to it himself, though it was hard to say if it would have made a difference. Shintarou had come so hard some of it had ended up in his hair.

Akashi levered himself out of the chair and approached Shintarou’s sprawled form. Shintarou looked completely lax and exhausted and Akashi wanted to lick the sweat off his skin. Instead, he contented himself with crouching next to him and running a hand through his matted hair – being careful, of course, to make sure he kept his own head higher. 

“Can you walk to the showers,” Akashi asked, voice subdued, “or should I get Atsushi to carry you again?”

Shintarou made an indignant noise, muffled by exhaustion. He turned his head to face Akashi with evident difficulty. “I can manage,” he said, naked and conquered and still so imperious that Akashi had to lean down and kiss him after all.


End file.
